CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE || JEREMY
“ W e have to stop meeting like this,” Thierry remarked as I walked up to him in the dreamscape.
The trees around us were impossibly tall, their canopies vanishing into mist, their trunks as wide as both of us end to end.
It was full dark, but the foliage glowed from within, lit with pure magic, revealing endless old-growth trees and breathtaking plant life all around us.
An impossible place—timeless, ancient, wonderful.
But it existed here, for us.
Thierry grinned, his whole face lit with joy. “After all, what on earth would the neighbors say?”
“Let them talk,” I said, grinning back. This was the playful aspect of my vampire—the side I never saw in our waking lives.
“Say what you will about the wisdom of casting a spell to summon your mate,” he said, gesturing vaguely around us, “but this is pretty cool. Not everyone gets to experience something like this.”
Watching him, an idea bloomed. “Do you want to go on an adventure?”
His eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious. “What kind of adventure?”
“Do you trust me?”
He shrugged, still watching me. “I’m not sure.”
But I could tell he was lying. When I held out my hand, eyebrows raised, he sighed and crossed the distance to take it.
I stepped closer and wrapped my other arm around his waist, my joy bubbling up. Here, in this enchanted place, we were weightless and free. I was going to prove it to him. In the dreamscape, belief beats physics every time.
And with him secure in my arms, I took flight.
Thierry yelped, startled, and clung to me as the ground vanished.
We shot up through the canopy into a clear night sky. The moon, nearly full, hung in the distance, and the stars shivered as we approached, close enough to touch. If I tried, I could pluck one and give it to Thierry.
My vampire was no delicate flower. After the initial shock, he grinned, utterly open and unguarded for the first time since I’d met him.
“This is splendid,” he breathed, transfixed with wonder as we soared over the dark forest. Then he startled, pointing into the distance. “Wait. Is that Mount Rainier?”
“It is,” I told him. “This place’s version of it, at least. Have you ever been to the top of a mountain?”
He sniffed. “I can’t say I’ve had the inclination. I’m an indoor sort of gent, usually.”
“Indoor activities are nice too,” I replied, maybe a little too innocently. “If you don’t like it, we won’t stay.”
He nodded, then barked out a laugh as I corkscrewed us through the air, fearless as he clung to me.
The mountain took almost no time to reach. In the dreamscape, distance was just as malleable as the other laws of physics.
The summit was covered in snow, but our feet didn’t sink into it when we landed. Beyond us, the entire western half of the state stretched away.
Thierry brought his hands to his mouth, eyes wide. “This is…”
He trailed off, at a loss for words.
I understood. It felt like we were the only ones in the world—the only thing here that really existed. And it wouldn’t have felt that way without him. Thierry, though breathless, had somehow managed to breathe vitality back into me anyway. He had brought me back to life.
“I know,” I told him.
It was surreal. Even for me, it felt impossible that I was no longer the only witness to this place.
That someone else could feel the same sharp wonder and joy so poignant it might break me.
And he did—I saw it in his eyes and stamped across his expression.
He knew it was pure magic. The deepest magic.
It was almost funny how wrong I’d been about him.
“Me too,” he said, giving me a shy smile. “Eight hundred years of life and you get jaded about people. About their motivations. What they want from you.” He paused. “But you’re nothing like what I thought you were.”
Interesting. He could clearly sense my thoughts and emotions here.
Unsurprising, given that the wolfish mate bond, while not as direct as a blood bond, still allowed for a deep sort of empathy.
And I wanted him to understand me the same way I understood him.
But almost as soon as I recognized it, unease flickered through me.
If he could sense my thoughts and feelings here—and he obviously could—then what else could he sense?
Because I was—at least on some level—the sort of person he feared.
When Ian died, I’d become darker. Sullen.
Angry. Hopeless. And so insane with grief, I had tried to tear an innocent man out of the daylight world and turn him into a creature of magic and moonlight and danger, with no warning or explanation.
But James was only a symbol of the infection I had let spread within me after Ian’s death. The manifestation of what it looked like when I forced my pack to go against their nature and become monstrous just so I could have what I wanted.
I had been selfish, greedy, callous—
“He forgave you,” Thierry said quietly.
“I’m having a hard time forgiving myself,” I admitted. “I betrayed my people, our teachings—even my own nature—when I went after James. And I tried to kill Pierce. I would have too if I hadn’t been stopped.”
“James and Pierce have both moved on. They’ve both forgiven you. Everyone forgives you.”
He locked gazes with me, his eyes filled with defiance. Pale and pretty, like a sculpture carved from ice—delicate on the surface, but nothing could have been further from the truth. He had an inner steel. And a fire, too. There was nothing cold at all about Thierry.
I kissed him.
At first, he went rigid, and I thought he might pull away to scold me. But then, a heartbeat later, he kissed me back. His lips were soft and firm, his mouth warm. His body pressed against mine, so good, like we belonged together.
I pulled back and stripped off his shirt, then mine. Thierry let me, need burning in his eyes.
I laid both shirts on the snow as a makeshift bed. It was a dreamscape—the snow wouldn’t be cold, not if we didn’t want it to be.
Then I hesitated. What if this wasn’t what he wanted?
“I want to,” Thierry said fiercely, locking gazes with me. “It might be rushing things, but I don’t care. Jeremy, I want to.”
He stepped forward, hands on my chest, palms tracing my muscles. My eyes slid shut with pleasure. His touch felt so fucking good. Smooth and warm, with the confidence of centuries behind it.
Then his hands dipped lower, encircling my aching cock, and my eyes snapped open. Somehow, we were both naked.
Thierry gave me a mischievous grin. “I have eight centuries of life experience, wolf. I’ve had my fair share of lucid dreams. If I want the clothing gone, it’s gone.”
Bathed in silver moonlight, his pale, lithe body gleamed almost as white as the snow. Lean muscles were taut beneath his skin, like a swimmer’s or a dancer’s. He seemed like he belonged here, more Fae than vampire.
He eyed me with a hunger that should have made me wary, but instead left me feeling utterly desired. Wanted. Needed.
And I craved him too. I ached to be inside him. To feel the hot, wet tightness of him around me. To draw strangled moans from his lips. To feel his body submit deliciously to mine.
Then he dropped to his knees, wrapped one hand around the base of my cock, and took me into his mouth, all the way down to the hilt.
I let out a startled cry.
Apart from my first encounter with Thierry in the woods, I had been celibate since Ian. I’d forgotten how fucking good it felt. Better now, because it was him. My inner wolf urged me to take him, to claim him, to make him ours.
He bobbed up and down, his warm, wet lips sliding over my aching shaft, and my eyes rolled back in my head. His tongue swirled over my tip, dragging a strangled growl from my throat.
I threaded my hands into his hair and rutted into his mouth, losing any semblance of control, letting the animal in me take over.
Thierry worked his own cock while I thrust into his mouth.
When I got close, I eased him off me. We were going to finish together, with me buried deep inside him. Not before.
“Get on your hands and knees,” I ordered.
Thierry surprised me by obeying without question. His ass was round and perfect, and I dropped low enough to see his beautiful rosebud of a hole. With one hand on each cheek, I spread him open and laved at him with my tongue. He bucked against me, letting out a strangled, needy moan.
“Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s like it’s my first time.”
I hummed at that and set to work with my tongue—first circling his entrance and dragging a steady stream of profanity from him, then dipping inside, loosening him gently before pushing deeper.
His swears dissolved into incoherent moans.
His cock was still rock-hard between his legs, but neither of us touched it.
When he was relaxed enough, I pulled back and reached into the snow beside us. A bottle of lube was there, waiting—because I wanted it to be. I popped the lid with a soft snick and poured some into my hand.
I used the pad of my thumb first, smearing it over his entrance, then coated my index finger.
“Please fuck me, Jeremy,” Thierry gasped. “I can take it.”
“I’m not hurting you just to satisfy my lust. If it doesn’t feel just as good for you, we’re not doing it.”
Thierry muttered something incoherent about wolves, but bucked again when I slid my forefinger into him. The warmth and velvety tightness of him were intoxicating.
“You doing okay?”
“Yes,” he moaned, backing onto my finger, fucking himself with it. His eyes slid shut. “Yes.”
I grinned, watching his unselfconscious neediness, the pleasure he took in being opened. My cock jerked, and my inner wolf growled, hungry to get him ready so we could take him, make him say our name, draw those pleasure-noises from his lips. So our mate would know he belonged to us and only us.
I slid in a second finger.
He bit his lip, letting me loosen him.
“There’s a good boy,” I praised. “You like having my fingers in there, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he groaned. “Yes. Jeremy, please.”
“One more finger, then I’ll be inside you. Can you wait just a moment longer?”
Thierry nodded wildly, then gasped as I slid in a third digit. His eyes shut again, teeth catching his lip.
When I was convinced it would be only pleasure and no pain for him, I pulled my fingers free carefully.
He let out a soft, anguished sound.
I coated my aching cock with lube, adding more than necessary. Then I positioned myself behind him, lined up the head with his entrance, and—
Thierry bucked back, taking me to the hilt in one go.
My eyes widened, a groan escaping as his slick, wet heat enveloped me.
A sound halfway between a moan and a sigh spilled from Thierry’s lips.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he said. “Your cock feels like heaven inside me.”
I froze, not wanting to hurt him—though every instinct, man and wolf, screamed at me to thrust, to bury myself as deep as I could.
“Do it,” Thierry said. “I’m not breakable, Jeremy. Fuck me. Take me apart. Make it rough.”
Those words unleashed something primal. With a low growl, I threaded one arm under his torso, grabbing his shoulder to keep him still. His back was flat and warm against me, our bodies pressed together, his scent surrounding me. And then I thrust, rutting into him.
Thierry moaned. “Yeah, just like that.”
After that, I was gone. Holding him still, I drove into him again and again, reveling in the tight heat, the slick, almost-too-much pleasure that had me on the edge from the start.
He gave needy cries and broken moans as I fucked him, and I gave myself over wholly to the animal urge to make him mine. To make him belong to me and no one else.
When I felt myself getting close, I reached down, wrapped my hand around his cock—still hard and leaking—and stroked him.
Thierry’s moans sharpened into gasps as I increased my pace. The orgasm tore through me. I shot deep inside him. Moments later, he cried out and spilled into my hand.
When it was over, I pulled out gently. Dream or not, I could still hurt him if I wasn’t careful. He let out a soft cry of dismay, like he hated losing the sensation of me deep inside him.
I lay back on our shirts, watching him. I half expected attitude—something tawdry or snarky to break the intimacy. Some attempt to undo what had just happened.
He didn’t say a word.
Instead, he lay down next to me, curled against my side with his head on my chest, one arm slung over me. Then his eyes slid shut.
He smiled faintly, letting out a pleased sound. “My beautiful wolf,” he whispered.
Then he went right to sleep, secure and safe in my arms.